


36

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's Birthday, Fluff, M/M, Pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cross posted from <a href="http://herowords.tumblr.com/post/109090936836/a-n-have-some-fluff-for-my-baby-childs-birthday">tumblr</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	36

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from [tumblr](http://herowords.tumblr.com/post/109090936836/a-n-have-some-fluff-for-my-baby-childs-birthday).

They go to a diner just outside of town. It’s a quiet place, black checkered curtains on the windows, red vinyl on the barstools, and a jukebox tucked in the corner, crooning a Beatles song as the patrons sip at chipped mugs, and scrape forks across their plates.

It reminds Dean of his mother, the smell of coffee and pie permeating the air, and he quirks a smile as Castiel settles into the bench seat across from him.

"I didn’t even know this place was here." Dean says. He pulls a menu from the wire condiment holder on the back of the table and studies the pictures on the page.

"Yelp gave them 4 1/2 stars."

Dean’s eyes flick to Castiel’s. “Yelp, huh?”

"I hear their reviews are very trustworthy."

Dean smiles, shaking his head softly because  _the angel uses Yelp_.

Their waitress is an older woman named Deb. Her hair is a murky red color, swept up into a bun on her head, and her eye makeup is too heavy, but she’s friendly enough.

After they’ve ordered Castiel slides a leg between Dean’s, their knees bumping amiably beneath the table. He relaxes into his seat, the waning sunlight bathing him in a golden glow, and Dean smiles. If he got nothing else for his birthday this year, just seeing Castiel so at ease would be more than enough.

"You’re smiling at me." Castiel states, ducking his head like he and Dean are teenagers on their first date. And while there’s years of history between them, an apocalypse, and tablets, purgatory, and hell, what they’re doing now feels so normal Dean aches for more of the same.

"I like smiling at you." Dean offers, his grin deepening.

Castiel reaches across the table to lace their fingers together, never shy to show his affections even in the most crowded of places. Dean welcomes the steady warmth of Cas’ hand, wondering at how he had ever shied away from it in the past, and knocking Castiel’s knee with his own. “I like it when you smile at me, too.” Castiel mutters.

The Yelp reviews, it turns out, are spot on. Dean moans into his burger on the first bite and it’s all downhill after that, juices running down his fingers and flavor bursting across his tongue.

"Is that really necessary?" Castiel wonders, half a smile tugging at his lips. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and Dean’s stomach flip flops because he’s getting Castiel worked up and it, in turn, is making Dean a little warm under the collar as well.

"I can’t help it," Dean says. "This is a damn good burger."

"Would you say it’s satisfactory for a birthday dinner?" Castiel wonders.

Dean stuffs a couple of steak fries into his mouth. “More than.”

Castiel’s lips quirk up at the corners and he starts in on his own meal.

When the pie comes, complete with a flickering candle on top, Dean’s heart flutters in his chest. He doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper birthday celebration, probably when he was turning four years old, back before his world turned to ash and everything became fight or die, and Castiel’s attempts to make the day special for Dean are like a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he was gasping for.

It feels strange not to hear Sam wish him a happy birthday over the flames of an open grave, the smell of burnt bones leaking into the air, but it’s a good kind of strange. A strange Dean could get used to.

There are three slices of pie to split between the two of them, cherry, blueberry, and pecan, and Dean’s not sure he has room for it all, but he’s definitely going to try.

He blows out the candle, a gentle stream of smoke drifting into the space between he and Castiel, and plunges his fork into the warm, gooey slice of cherry pie.

It’s even better than the burger.

"My mom made me a pie every year on my birthday," Dean shares as they make their way through the dessert. Castiel’s favoring the blueberry, and the pecan’s already nearly finished. "Peach, apple, blackberry, and banana cream; I remember them all." A slight pang of sadness ebbs through Dean’s ribcage as he smiles longingly down at the table. His mom had always made it a point to make January 24th the most important day of the year.

"You miss her." Castiel says quietly. His eyes are soft, sorrowful, and there’s a lump forming in Dean’s throat no amount of pie will ever ease.

"Every day."

When the check arrives Castiel whisks it off the table, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and smoothing them into the check presenter. Dean’s not sure where the guy’s getting his money, but Dean doesn’t exactly have a steady job either so he doesn’t ask.

Outside the sky is dark. They drive through the empty fields of Kansas’ backyard and park out in the middle of nowhere by an enormous tree whose branches graze the sky with ease.

They kiss under the stars. Their noses are cold in the January air, but their lips are pliant and their mouths warm. Dean can see his own breath when he exhales, but Castiel just holds him tighter and Dean doesn’t feel the cold at all.

"You know, Cas," Dean says as they lean on the hood of the Impala, the warmth from the engine seeping through the threads of Dean’s jeans sending a shiver down his spine. "For not having a birthday of your own to celebrate, you sure have done a hell of a job helping me celebrate mine."

Castiel smiles and presses a kiss to Dean’s temple, reaching out to mold their palms together and link their fingers. “I just wanted you to be happy,” he says.

Dean looks at the man beside him; the man who’s become one of the most important people in Dean’s life, and grins. “I am happy.” He says.

Castiel’s head comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder and they fall quiet, admiring the silvery pinpricks of light burning in the sky. “Happy birthday, Dean,” Castiel mutters after a beat.

Dean beams into the darkness. “Thanks, Cas.”


End file.
